


I am the one thing in life I can control

by HistoriaGloria



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Be safe friends!, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family, Graphic descriptions of hanging and death, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Nightmares, Percy and Vex definitely named one of their children Vax, family love, you can pry that from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:17:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HistoriaGloria/pseuds/HistoriaGloria
Summary: Percy never really started grieving to stop. And now, with his own family, how can he possibly begin to explain the horrors that this castle has seen?





	I am the one thing in life I can control

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! More Sad Gun Boi because I love him.  
This all sort of stemmed from me wanting to write a fic about Percy having difficulties with anniversaries and then I watched Post-Campaign 1 Talks Machina. And Matt was like, aha yes, the de Rolo family were hung from the Sun Tree as a sign of power and My Mind went crazy.  
I also wrote a lot of this at 2am and was surprised at how dark I got but oh well.  
The timings for this fic are all like, estimations?? But it should put Percy in his early 40s, making him 18 when the Briarwoods came and in his mid-20s when the campaign ended.
> 
> Title is from Wait For It, from Hamilton! Taliesin actually put it on Percy's 2nd playlist and it's such a good song for him.

It's late. It's so late that its early and Percival Frederickstein von Musel Kowoloski de Rolo the Third stands alone at a window.

He stands in the old war room, his hands clasped in front of him, dressed in his night clothes and glasses but he hasn't slept. Vex, his darling Vex, had fallen asleep moments after they had gotten into bed. She is more tired nowadays, but after everything they've been through, Percy can understand that.

He loves her so much. Outside, the night is dark and cold, icy with winter. And inside, despite his long woolen coat for the indoors, Percy is cold.

His hands are shaking. He's older now, his youth finally beginning to leave him. He was rather young when he met Vox Machina. Now, he's middle-aged, his face developing small frown and smile lines. His hair would have been brown with grey.

Would have been. But as it is, it is already white.

The thought gives Percy pause for a second. He looks fairly similar to his father now. To the last time he had seen him.

And his knees give way. The gunslinger slides against the window, holding himself upright as he presses a trembling hand to his mouth to prevent a sob escaping him. He had come to the war room for two reasons. One, so as not to wake Vex'ahlia with his restlessness. And two, because from here, Percy has a perfect view over Whitestone. From here, he can see the Sun Tree.

He closes his eyes.

The boughs of the tree are heavy with snow, but for a moment, Percy can see them weighed down by something else.

By bodies.

At first, it's the villagers who were hung in the boughs, dressed to resemble Vox Machina. Innocent people who had died because Vox Machina had challenged the Briarwoods.

For a brief instant, Percy can see Vox Machina themselves swinging in the branches and he can't hold back that sob. But no. They are, mostly, alive. Vex is asleep in the castle, in their room. Keyleth is in Zephra. Grog and Pike and Scanlan are living happily together just outside of Westruun. Vax'ildan... well, he will never accept the loss of his brother.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Percy sees the Sun Tree.

He still sees bodies. They are in the same arrangement as the bodies he had actually seen there, but they're different. Bodies he had been told about but had never seen.

The bodies that his mind's eye conjures up for him are his family.

His father and mother, already covered in blood.

Julius, his throat slit, the noose around his neck soaked red.

Vesper, her eyes dead and empty.

Whitney and Oliver, beside each other even in death, their mouths open in a silent scream.

Ludwig, little, tiny, Ludwig. Barely a teenager. A child's body swinging in the non-existent wind.

And then, his mind adds a figure. A figure who was not in this gory tableau.

Cassandra. Cassandra, with arrows in her chest, Cassandra a child still, like when he fled from Whitestone. She stares up at him, dead and blank and Percy screams.

* * *

Vex'ahlia de Rolo wakes to screaming. It echoes through the stone walls of the castle, anguished and helpless and so _fucking familiar_. This is a scream that she has been woken by before. It is the scream of the man she married.

_Percy._

She struggles to her feet and hurries out of their chambers, only to run into their eldest child stumbling out of his own room. Vax'ildan de Rolo is 17 and looks worryingly like his namesake, all dark hair and fine features, but his eyes are the de Rolo's: piercing blue white like a cloudless day in Whitestone.

"Mum?" he asks, nervous.

"Your father, come on," is all Vex replies, before following the sound with all the nature of a tracker. It doesn't take her long to find Percy, Vax in tow. She bursts into the old war room, unused in that capacity since Vecna, to find her husband curled up by the large window. He is pressed against the wall, hands tight in his hair, eyes closed.

A nightmare.

She approaches carefully, like one would approach a wild animal, magic gathering at her hands should she need it.

"Percy, darling, wake up. Its just a dream, wake up!" She gives him a firm shake and the gunslinger shoots upright, his eyes flying open.

"Cassandra!" he cries out before he realises who is there. "Vex?" And Vex doesn't think that the broken way he says her name after she wakes him from a nightmare will ever not break her heart. She reaches forward to embrace him and though he flinches, as though worried it isn't real, he collapses into the hug.

"Vex'ahlia..." he sobs and she rubs his back. Quietly, Vax'ildan approaches them both, unsure of how to react to his father crying.

"I'm here, Percy, it's okay. Let's go through this, yes? Where are we, darling?"

"Whitestone," mumbles Percy, trembling against her.

"More specifically?"

"The old war room inside Whitestone Castle." Vex smiles. So he at least knows where they are.

"Can you tell me how many children we have?" she requests quietly. It's a good way to follow the passage of time without bringing up dates. It upsets Percy, due to the fact that he is reaching ages his parents didn't get to see.

"5 children. Our eldest is 17 years old." She notes that Percy doesn't seem to have noticed that Vax is there. He is pressed too tightly against her.

"Good, good. Can you tell me what the nightmare was about?" Its a gentle question and she's expecting a rejection. Percy often doesn't talk about his nightmares but she always gives him the option. He sniffles and clings tighter to her.

"Do you know the date?" 

* * *

"_Do you know the date?"_ It seems like such an innocuous question to Vax'ildan de Rolo. But it makes his mother stiffen immediately.

"Oh, Percy..." whispers his mother. "Percy, darling."

"Twenty-five years today," replies his father, his voice tiny and weak in a way that Vax had never heard it.

"Its okay, darling, its okay. How about we go to bed, mm? You haven't slept yet, have you?" Percy shakes his head vehemently.

"I can't sleep, Vex, I'll only dream."

"I can help with sleep. I'll put you to sleep," she promises. Vax almost gags at the implications of his parents having sex but his mother shoots him a scowl, warm green magic weaving around her fingertips.

"With a sleep spell! Honestly, Vax'ildan de Rolo, get your head out of the gutter!" It’s then that his father shoots his head up to look at him, his cheeks coloured with shame.

"Vax, I'm, I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this." Vax shakes his head immediately.

"It’s alright, dad. Can, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Later," soothes his mother as Percy begins to shake in her arms again. "We shall talk about this later."

"In the morning?" asks Vax hopefully and his mother goes to refute that, but his father speaks first,

"Yes. In the morning. You are certainly old enough to know. I mean, I was barely older than you when it happened.”

“You don’t have to, Percy, especially not tomorrow,” says Vex but his father shakes his head.

“I want to. I want to. I have… I have been doing them a disservice by hiding their story from their grandchildren. Cassandra and I have fought about this enough.” Vax’ildan frowns. He doesn’t know what his father is referring to other that clearly his own parents. His dad has never spoken about his family, aside from his sister, Vax’s aunt, who lives with them. The castle holds very little trace of them. He knows his grandfather on his mother’s side; he knows that Grandfather Syldor and his mother hadn’t always gotten along, but now they were making peace. He knows his Aunt Velora, who is not much older than himself and his mother and father both talk about his uncle, the first Vax’ildan, with such reverence and sorrow.

But the de Rolo family? They are not mentioned.

Percy stands up, still holding cautiously on to Vex.

“We will talk about this in the morning, Vax. Now, we should all go to bed.” And suddenly, Percy looks like his father again, posture ramrod straight, face blank. Hidden. Vax nods and shuffles a little but Vex gives him a reassuring smile as she gently guides them both back to bed.

It takes Vax’ildan a little longer to fall back asleep that night.

* * *

Percy wakes slowly. Magically induced sleep always leaves you groggy and slow and this is no exception. He lays on his back in their bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He hates anniversaries.

They always creep up on him. The anniversary of Vax’s death, the anniversary of his family’s destruction… Today’s anniversary is not so much a single day. To this day, Percy has no idea how long he spent in the clutches of Anna Ripley. It felt like _months. _So, there is this day. The anniversary of the day the Briarwoods came to Whitestone, the night they killed most of his family. This is the anniversary in his mind and in the minds of the people of Whitestone.

He sighs and sits up. It’s mid-morning, the sun creeping into the room and he is alone. Vex’ahlia is likely dealing with their children and Percy should too. It takes him far too long to get up and dress, his movements sluggish.

His mind feels slow, like it is clogged up with blood.

But at least it isn’t smoke.

When he finally drags himself down to breakfast, Vex’ahlia is waiting for him, with Cassandra. He can hear the sounds of his children playing in the garden.

“Vex says you are going to tell them?” says Cassandra as a way of greeting.

“Just Vax,” responds Percy, moving over to the table. “I do not want to scare them. It is a lot. But, uh… I suppose this is me admitting defeat to you. You are welcome to speak to the others.” Cassandra nods and gives Percy a small smile, before standing up to hug her brother.

“I’m proud of you.”

“You always were the bravest,” mumbles Percy into her shoulder, hugging her back tightly.

“Well, that’s one thing we can agree one,” she teases back and Percy grins.

“Thank you for being here, Cass. You always were more patient than I deserved.” Cassandra shrugs.

“You’ll always be my brother, you ass.” Percy smiles at that and nods, turning to look at Vex’ahlia.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask.” Cassandra chuckles and gets up.

“I’ll go keep an eye on them and send Vax in.” Percy nods, taking a seat at the table beside Vex slowly. She reaches out and grabs his hand as their eldest son comes in, his long black hair tugged into a messy bun.

“Hey,” he says, blinking a little. “We having that talk now?” Percy nods.

“Yes,” he says as Vax sits down. Percy inhales deeply and begins to speak. “When I was around your age, a little older, a lot of things changed for me…” He tells his son about his siblings, about his parents. He tells him about the Briarwoods and Anders and Ripley. He tells him about fleeing Whitestone and leaving Cassandra behind. He tells him about Orthax and the deal he made, about the weapons he had built, about the horrors he did in the name of revenge. He tells him about the Sun Tree and the bodies which were left there, about the way Whitestone had been choked by the Briarwoods. And when he finishes, there are tears in his eyes and his hands are trembling.

“Twenty-five years ago today, I lost my family. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything before. I… I couldn’t.” Vax sits across from him; his son is silent, his blue eyes wide. Percy waits, expecting Vax to be angry that he didn’t say anything before. But instead, his son just reaches across the table and takes his shaking hands in his own.

“Dad,” says Vax quietly. “You survived so much. You don’t ever have to tell me anything, but I’m glad you did.” And Percy is a little astounded at the quiet wisdom and acceptance of his eldest child. “Thank you. For telling me this.” Percy stands suddenly and rushes around the table to hug Vax tightly to his chest.

“I love you, Vax,” he murmurs. “Thank you, for understanding.” And Percy feels his wife join them, placing her hands on his shoulders.

Percy listens.

Outside, he can hear his sister laughing at his children playing. He can hear the peals of bells in the clock tower, distantly. He can hear the bustle of the castle, of the town, of Whitestone.

And here, wrapped up in the arms of his wife and his eldest child, tears streaming down his face, Percy feels at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come yell at me on Twitter or Tumblr at HistoriaGloria!


End file.
